


Little Brother, Big Brother

by JauntyHako



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Big Brother Michael, Child!Lucifer is adorable, M/M, Memory Loss, deaged!Lucifer
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-16
Updated: 2015-02-16
Packaged: 2018-03-13 04:19:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3367565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JauntyHako/pseuds/JauntyHako
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael and Lucifer break out of the Cage, only that Lucifer isn't quite himself. He's back to the boy he was before the Fall and remembers nothing and Michael is torn between praising his Father for giving him his little brother back and dread. After all, sooner or later Lucifer would recuperate and regain his memories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Little Brother, Big Brother

**Author's Note:**

> Boy, that was a hard baby to write. I sat three days on this one. But I still enjoyed writing child!Lucifer a lot. He's such a cutie patootie as an adult can you imagine the cuteness when he wasn't the Devil but simply a little angel?  
> Anyway, hope you enjoy!

Michael remembered the Cage's construction well. They had done it in secret. Only he, Father and some of his most trusted angels knew of it. No one asked for whom it was meant. Michael's heart had ached even as he worked, his hands building the cage that would torment Lucifer should he rebel openly against their Father.

He wished there had been another way, but in the end it was he who threw his brother into Hell. He listened to Lucifer's wails for close to a hundred years, listened to the screams of a brother who experienced pain for the first time in his life.

Eventually he returned to Heaven to make sure their Father's orders were obeyed and did his best to forget about Lucifer. It never quite worked.

 

He thought often of those days during their imprisonment. Lucifer raged worse than he had since his initial Fall and Michael had given up attempting to calm him. If he wished to tear his own wings apart it was his decision. Michael in turn cradled the soul of his charge, the boy Adam, and kept it from the worst harm. He was under no delusion that the human's soul stood any chance of surviving this ordeal. His only hope was that Father would save them both in time. He had never disobeyed one order, had always done what was asked of him. God would not leave his best son behind in this prison. Sooner or later he would come and raise him to Heaven again. Michael knew that and waited.

 

No one came. But then again no one had to. At some point Michael looked up to see the Cage wearing down. The perfect prison, the one a full garrison of angels had given their lives and Grace in its construction, crumbled at the edges.

„It was never meant to hold more than one archangel.“ Lucifer said behind him. It was the first time they spoke in here. Michael shuddered at how utterly calm his brother sounded.

„You will not break out. I will make sure of this.“

 

From then on Michael spent his days reinforcing the Cage with his own Grace. Every crack would be filled with energy, every split fused together again. Lucifer didn't try to stop him. He just watched him. And that, if nothing else, gave Michael a hint at how futile his efforts were.

 

Eventually the Cage broke open. Lucifer had been ready when it happened. Michael, weakened from his work, not so much. Heat, deadly, terrible heat, seared the skin off his flesh, burned through his eyes. Lucifer fought against the torrent, wings beating against the onslaught of hell. Michael, knowing that he would not survive a second among the legions of hell, took up chase nonetheless. Lucifer could not be allowed to escape.

A couple of times it looked like he might succeed in dragging his brother back into the Pit, but everytime he did, Lucifer shook him off, dodging both his brother and the demons that chased them. The demon to bring Crowley not one, but two angels would be rewarded richly.

Some grabbed at Michael and were burned by the purity of his Grace. No matter how little he had, it was enough to shake off lowly demons.

Until they brought chains. He felt their weight before they touched him, grace-binding runes etched into them, burning cold even through the heat of Hell. He fought the first wave off, Lucifer almost out of reach. But they came again from all directions and bound his wings against his back.

He fell, all remaining strength lost in an instance. Fell towards his inevitable death. He closed his eyes and prayed.

 

 

When Michael came to, the heat and chains were gone. So was the unbearable frost of the Cage. He blinked against the sun over his head. Pine trees provided some measure of shade. The boy's soul was gone, hopefully moved on to heaven, and he was free. His Father had saved him after all. He'd known all the time he would.

His limbs still hurt from the lingering touches of the Cage. A pain, he suspected, would not lessen anytime soon. If it was bad for him, how much worse had it to be for Lucifer, who had spent eons in the … _Lucifer_.

The Cage had been destroyed and the last thing Michael had seen was Lucifer on his way up to Earth.

He scrambled to his feet, ignoring the sharp pricks of pain it sent through him.

His brother had to be close somewhere. With some luck he still recovered from his escape and would be easily captured. He could not risk letting him run free in this world.

He started walking, listening for the familiar hum of Lucifer's Grace. What he heard first were pitiful cries.

„Father? Father where are you?“

A human boy, Michael thought, lost in the woods. He sensed Lucifer in the same direction and quickened his pace to keep his brother from hurting a human.

The boy's sobbing guided him through the trees, getting louder with each passing step. All the while the boy called out for his father and brothers.

Michael found the boy in a meadow, curled on the ground. He cried most pitifully and Michael swore to find his family. But first he had to deal with Lucifer. He was yet a distance away but he was too weak to tell where exactly his brother hid.

Wary of any movement and sound Michael walked up to the boy.

„Do not be afraid, boy.“ he said. „I mean you no -“

„Michael!“

The boy got up and flung himself into Michael's arms. He had no other choice but to catch him.

„I was so scared, I woke up all alone and you weren't there and I don't know what happened and everything hurts and my wings … Michael, _my wings_.“

That was when he felt it. He thought Lucifer had to be farther away since his Grace felt soft at the edges of Michael's perception. But he wasn't far away. Lucifer was right here with Grace so meek and small as he hadn't seen it since … since before the fall. Long before.

„Michael? Say something. You're scaring me.“  
The boy, Lucifer, leaned back to look him in the eyes. No doubt. Even in a human vessel, even with millennia lying between this Lucifer and the one tortured in the Cage, this was his brother as he had been in the beginning of their creation.

„I … you … you …“ Michael stuttered. If anything it only seemed to scare Lucifer more. Worry flashed over his young face.

„What's wrong? Brother?“

Michael pulled himself together. He mustn't lose his head.

„Nothing is wrong. You are safe now. Tell me, what is the last thing you remember?“

His brother calmed down again and slumped against Michael's shoulder.

„My wings hurt. I woke up and my wings hurt so much. I don't know why, I don't remember what hurt me so bad. The last thing I remember is when we played in the Garden Father is making. He just made a river and we wanted to try it out and went swimming in the empty vessels and that's all I know.“

Michael remembered that day. God had made human vessels for his angels but had not yet given them souls. He was still concentrated on constructing the Garden Eden and allowed his children to play with the soulless bodies walking about.

It had been so endlessly long ago. When he and Lucifer still loved each other unconditionally. Back when there had been no humans, no jealousy or petty rage. Just him and Lucifer and the other angels rejoicing over their Father's creation.

And here in his lap sat that very brother he had once loved so much, without a trace of rebellion in him, without memory of the things that came after.

„Michael? Why are you crying?“

He had lost the ability to speak. Tears clogged his throat, made every breath a labour in itself. So he only shook his head and pulled Lucifer closer, hugged him tight both with his vessel and his Grace. Lucifer picked up quickly on his emotional state and started petting his hair, currents of Grace flowing between them.

„I love you, Michael.“ Lucifer whispered in his ear in an attempt to cheer his brother up. „I love you a whole lot.“

It only had Michael crying harder.

 

 

Eventually the tears ran dry and Michael was left with a deep exhaustion he hadn't felt in ages. Lucifer still lay in his arms, quiet and unquestioning of his older brother's weakness. When Michael stirred he looked up, hopeful but sleepy.

„Can we go home now?“ he asked and yawned, his human body demanding energy that his weak Grace was not able to replenish.

„We … we can't return to Heaven just yet.“ Michael said. No matter what happened to Lucifer, what divine magic had given him back his little brother, he knew his siblings in Heaven wouldn't be as relieved about this development.

„Oh …“

„But we can go somewhere safe for the night.“ Michael debated with himself how much he should tell Lucifer. They would have to take care of their human bodies, at least until they had regenerated, and that meant approaching civilisation.

„Some time has passed between your last memory and now, little brother. A long time, in fact.“ He hesitated, but Lucifer only looked up at him with the same adoring curiosity that had been inherent to him. „Humans inhabit this plane now. We will need to live among them for a while.“

Lucifer never questioned him. Only slung his hands around Michael's neck and let himself be carried off, nodding off even before they'd left the woods.

 

With the memories Adam had left behind Michael managed to acquire lodging in a motel for the night. The idea of committing feeble crimes to secure these rooms sat wrong with him, but he saw when he had no other option. He hoped Father would forgive him for tampering with the human's economy and pocketed the credit cards for later use.

Technically Michael should have gone out right after putting Lucifer to bed. They needed food and fresh clothes, the ones they wore dirtied and torn.

He told himself he'd only sit for a few minutes by his brother's side to drink in the sight of his brother being once again the innocent, sweet boy he'd once known. But after an hour or so he admitted defeat and lay down next to his brother and hugged him tight. He fell asleep within seconds.

 

 

Michael woke to something cold and wet touching his cheek. He swatted it away, battling consciousness. If he would be allowed to sleep for just five more minutes …

The wet thing came back swiping over half of his face.

„Nooo.“ he grumbled and hid his face in the pillow. Someone giggled. Michael cracked open one eye, sudden realisation dawning on his hazy mind.

„Lucifer, were you licking my face?“

His question was answered with another bout of mad giggling. The mattress dipped as Lucifer crawled closer. Michael pretended to be still half-asleep, glad the pillow concealed his grin.

Lucifer shook his shoulder. Still Michael didn't move.

„Michae~l, get up. I'm bored.“ Lucifer whined. He inched closer, undoubtedly to lick him again. That's when Michael charged. He caught the shrieking boy in his arms and threw them around. He wasted no time and started tickling Lucifer all over, laughing just as much as his little brother did.

„Michael! Stop … please!“ Lucifer yelped, trying to push Michael away with tiny hands.

„That's what little angels get for licking their elder's faces.“ Michael said but took mercy. Both dropped onto the bed again, breathing heavily, wide grins splitting their faces.

 

„I'm hungry.“ Lucifer announced after a while. Michael groaned but sat up. He had always wondered at why humans were so reluctant to rise from sleep. It seemed strange that they would prefer unconsciousness over the opportunities of a day. Now he understood.

„I will go out and procure breakfast for us.“ he said nonetheless and went to get up. Tiny arms slung around his waist and stopped him quite effectively.

„Can I come with? I looked out while you were sleeping and it's all so different from the Garden. Can we go and look?“

Michael swallowed.

„Of course. We need to get some new clothes in any case. It will be easier to find the right size for you if you can try some on.“

 

Twenty minutes later they had reached the mall, blessedly void of heavy traffic this hour of the day. Lucifer marveled and wondered at everything they came across.

„It's so big! And there's vessels everywhere. When did Father make this? How much time's passed? What else did I miss?“

Michael laughed despite himself.

„Calm yourself, brother. And take my hand. I don't want to lose you.“

Lucifer took his hand without protest.

„This is so exciting. Please, Michael, tell me about this place. Please?“

They rounded a fountain with artificial water lilies spread on the water. Michael kept Lucifer only so from taking an impromptu swim.

„Father gave the vessels souls. They're humans now and they built this place.“

Lucifer gaped at him open-mouthed. For the first time Michael noticed he missed his front tooth.

„They made this all by themselves? Even the houses outside? And the streets?“

„Yes. In fact, they have spread over most of Earth and raised cities from the ground that pierce the clouds. The most creative and prolific builders were honoured with building places of worship for our Father. The things they can do with glass and stone, it never failed to impress Father.“

„Can we go to a place like that when we're done?“

„Of course, we …“  
But Lucifer barely listened.

„And then we have to call Father and I can tell him all about what I learned. Do you think he can give me back my memories? We'll have to ask him when we see him. And he can heal my wings, too.“

Michael flinched. He would rather bite his own tongue off than tell his baby brother their Father was unlikely to heed his prayers.

„Do they still hurt?“ he asked instead, hoping to divert Lucifer's attention. Thankfully, it worked.

„The whole time. But I didn't want to whine. They feel filthy, too. Could you groom them for me later?“

Stricken with old memories, Michael could only nod. Never in a thousand lifetimes would he have thought to hear that request again. Not out of Lucifer's mouth. Not after everything.

 

They rented a car and stored all their goods – food and fresh clothes – in it and went to visit one of the local churches.

Michael made Lucifer eat up his ice cream before they entered. A place of worship ought not to be sullied by frozen sugar.

„It's so beautiful.“ Lucifer said as he stared up the walls where stained-glass windows and colourful murals retold various events from the humans bible. Michael remembered some of the events as they had taken place, but some were as foreign to him as they were to his little brother. Lucifer tugged at his sleeve and pointed up towards one of the higher lying murals.

„Pick me up?“ he asked and Michael obediently got to his knees so Lucifer could climb up on his shoulders.

„The humans with the white wings and yellow things around their heads, are those meant to be angels?“ Lucifer asked, observant as ever.

„Yes. This is how humans typically represent us in art. We're meant to look strong but benevolent.“

„We're pretty. We must spend a lot of time with them if they paint us that often. We're almost in every story.“

„We, uh, used to. Not so much anymore.“

„Huh. Who's that?“

Michael followed Lucifer's pointed finger.

„That's Gabriel. The humans have a saviour Father sent to release them of their sin. Gabriel offered to announce his coming.“

„Where's Gabriel now? He was even younger than me but he has to be really old now.“

_Dead at your hand_ , Michael thought, staring at the mural. It was a good likeness of Gabriel. There was a barely concealed mirth to him that the artist probably hadn't intended.

„He left Heaven a long time ago to spend more time on Earth.“ was what he settled on saying. Not a lie, as such.

„No wonder. Humans are fascinating.“ Lucifer said as they walked on. Then he gasped. „What's happening there? Are those angels _fighting?_ “

Michael's heart clenched. Of all the stories humans chose to plaster on the walls of their churches, it had to be this one.

„That's … that's …“ he began, voice shaking. What was he supposed to say? That it was himself, piercing Lucifer's wings and exiling him to hell for all eternity? That they had fought for centuries, the rebellion costing the lives of almost a million angels? How was he supposed to explain to his little brother that he was responsible for War in Heaven and that it was Michael who had damaged his wings so badly they still hurt to this day?

„Michael?“

The weight on his shoulders lessened as Lucifer climbed down. Shortly after he got hugged at waist height.

He buried his hand in Lucifer's hair, stroked gently through it. This wouldn't last. With every passing hour Michael felt Lucifer's Grace growing stronger. Soon he would regain his memories and strength and they would be back to where they had been before. Back to the painting on the wall.

„Terrible things happened, didn't they.“ Lucifer said quietly. „That's why my wings hurt and why you're so sad all the time. When you found me in that forest you were so worried as if I was in danger. I didn't understand then, but I do now. There are angels who want others harm, aren't there? They hurt my wings. And you're protecting us from them and that's why we can't return to Heaven.“

„Y-yes.“ Michael choked out. Again he didn't lie. Not really.

He took a deep breath then and composed himself. This peace wouldn't last forever. He would be damned if he threw it away with sullen melancholy.

„How about we leave here and I show you some more of humanity? I believe they have invented something called a funfair.“

 

 

They returned to their motel late in the evening, stomachs full of fatty and sweet foods, arms full of toys and prizes, heads full of laughter.

Lucifer fell into the bed almost instantly, plush animals and toys scattered around him.

„Get off the bed and take your shoes off, Lucifer. We don't want it to get dirty.“

Instead of getting off, Lucifer merely kicked his shoes off with a muffled complaint. He turned around only as Michael sat down next to him, nudging him lightly.

„I can groom your wings now, if you'd like.“

What a question. Lucifer was up and with his back to Michael so quick his motions became a blur. Manifesting them took longer, especially damaged as they were. Michael knew what to expect, he had seen his brothers wings in hell, but it still pained him to see them in this state.

Once they had been pure and white, brimming with youthful energy and more beautiful than any Michael had ever seen after. Now they were burned, covered with sulfur, wounds like black holes between broken and missing feathers. He had no idea where even to begin.

When his hands touched them for the first time Lucifer flinched but said nothing. As gently as he could, Michael freed the feathers from clumps of blood and sulfur, careful to avoid the more obvious injuries. With every movement he let his Grace flow into them, closing wounds, taking away pain.

They would never look as they had before the Fall. And yet Michael worked, pouring every bit of power he had gained over the day into them. If only Lucifer's wings could be white again, if only they would heal and be as they were.

Occasionally Lucifer shuddered or moaned softly in bliss. Michael smiled everytime it happened. Lucifer had always craved touch. Had always been needy and receptive to the smallest kindness.

_And then you imprisoned him in the loneliest place in Creation._

Never in his entire existence had he questioned an order given by their Father. Even if he didn't always understand his intentions, he never doubted. He still didn't. But he wondered if maybe he should have gone with Lucifer. If he should have thrown himself into the cage with him to keep him company. For the first time he asked himself if Lucifer hadn't been right in accusing him of betrayal.

 

The thought followed him into his dreams, after they had gone to sleep, once again sharing in an embrace.  _Had_ he let his brother down? His subconscious showed him memories of the battles they had fought. Of the day Lucifer had come to him and asked, no, begged him to stay by his side. Appalled by the very notion of rebellion, scared of the possibility of their everlasting peace ending, Michael had called him an abomination. Had pushed his own brother away, only to tell himself that a war would never come, that Lucifer would come to his senses and that everything would return to be the way it had been.

In his dreams they both burned, consumed by rage and desperation and the love they once held for each other, now boring into their hearts with thorns and needles.

„Michael! Michael, wake up.“  
He woke with a start, instinctively reaching out for Lucifer whose voice and body shook with tears.

„Hush, hush, little brother. What happened?“

„Father's gone.“ Lucifer said between sobs. He buried his head between Michael's shoulder and neck, clinging to him so hard it hurt. „Father's gone, Michael. I remember. He left us, left us all alone and he's _gone_ and he doesn't care about us and he went away and never came back.“

His words dissolved into uncontrollable crying then, fear and terrible homesickness driving away every calm thought.

Michael could do nothing but hold him tight, muttering soft nothings under his breath, half praying, half begging Lucifer to stop crying. The old pain was there again, the one that had pried his soul apart the day their Father left and had not moved from its place ever since.

„Why has he gone away? Why doesn't he love us anymore?“ Lucifer asked, a minute or an hour after, Michael could not tell.

„He loves us still, Lucifer. He does. Never doubt it. Father's just … trusting us to make it on our own. He believes in our strength and that we can care for his work in his stead.“

It was the same thing he'd told himself countless of times. Whenever the work grew too tiresome, whenever he wished for someone to take the burden away for just a while, he tried to tell himself that his Father had faith in him.

Lucifer didn't seem to believe him. Michael hardly blamed him.

All they did then was keep close to each other, mourning the loss of their Father and family. Some tiniest measure of luck provided that at least Lucifer didn't remember  _why_ their Father left. That he was still blissfully unaware of the civil war and how it had ended.

 

The events of the night had rattled them both. Michael dreaded the moment Lucifer would regain all his memories more than ever. Lucifer in turn was still distraught over their Father leaving and ate his breakfast without complaint but without joy either.

Michael did his best to cheer him up but nothing he said had any effect. Eventually he chose action over words and took Lucifer out for a day on the beach. The wonders of God's work would bring them closer to him, in spirit if nothing else.

They had the place almost to themselves. Only one couple occupied the beach when Michael and Lucifer arrived, enjoying the sun while the other townsfolk worked.

They didn't bother with towels or sunshades. Instead they sat down side by side, buried their toes in the warm sand and watched the waves rolling in.

The couple threw them a glance or two and only after a while Michael realised they would wonder about Lucifer's calm behaviour. To them he was nothing more than a human child and as such unlikely to sit still for longer than five seconds.

But while he had regressed to a young age, Lucifer was still an angel. Restlessness would only keep him from admiring their Father's work.

So they sat and watched, Lucifer leaning against Michael. Every now and then he reached out and brushed over his hand, smiling when his big brother linked their pinky fingers together.

No matter what happened Michael would remember this moment forever. He never dared hope to be given even one more minute of peace between him and his brother. Now he had days to treasure and keep close.

„Michael?“

„Hm?“

„Did I do something horrible?“  
How did the boy have a knack for throwing him completely off the rails within seconds? Michael felt as if he'd been dunked in ice water.

„Why do you think that?“ he asked, grateful that his voice didn't shake this time.

„Don't know. Just a feeling. Like you maybe remember something but not really, just that it's bad. Did I? Did I do something bad?“

In one manner or the other Lucifer had asked him that question often. Mostly accusing, seldom with an air of desperation. Never with this level of dread.

_Was it so bad what I did, Michael, that you had to cage me like an animal?_

_Do you really believe what I did was wrong?_

_Didn't you wish you could have done the same?_

Michael had never answered to these questions. Not really. He had reminded his brother of their duties, the natural order of things. Had called him immature and told him that he had destroyed their family.

This time he swore he would not repeat the same old diatribes. 

„I will not lie to you, Lucifer. Many things have happened, few of them good.“

„Was it my fault?“

„ …“

„Michael?“

He took a deep breath, feeling the weight of that answer in his gut. 

„No.“ he answered. For the first time truthfully. „No, I don't believe it was your fault.“ 

„What happened? Can you tell me?“

Michael glanced down at Lucifer who held the same adoring gaze for his older brother as ever. There was worry there, too, but he trusted him to make it better. Just like he always had.

„I … your memories will return soon. But there are some things I should say to you and they are better said now.“ He paused, gathered his thoughts. „I wish things could have been different. You always did what you believed in your heart was right and I can not blame you for that. Father knows, I tried. There was unrest, civil war, and it begun when you spoke up against Father openly.“

Lucifer gasped, disbelief written all over him. But he stayed quiet and listened.

„But it was not your fault. We should have listened to you. _I_ should have listened to you. You came to me and told me how you felt, how doubt and resentment filled your thoughts. Instead of helping you, I only drove you away. For the first time we did not share every thought and emotion. It scared me beyond measure. You felt estranged from us and I chose to remain with our brothers, instead of you.“

„You left me alone?“

„Yes, baby brother, I did. Father ordered us to remain as guardians of humanity, while you urged us to find our own path. I held no love for his newest creation, but I followed his orders nonetheless.“

Things stayed quiet after that admission, both trying to work through Michael's confession. He doubted he would have been able to say it to a Lucifer who had his memories back. Never before had he spoken about this with anyone else. The shame, the guilt and doubts had always been a secret. The one who could have ever understood him was, by God's orders, his mortal enemy. But this boy, this was the Lucifer he could still trust. The one that loved him unconditionally and would not judge him.

„Would you do it again? If you could make your choices all over again, would you leave me a second time?“

„I don't know. I love our Father still and were he to come back and order me to … I don't know what I would do. In my weakness I have never stood up against an order. I don't know if I could do what you did and take a step into the unknown. But at least I would like to believe that I'd stay by your side.“

„ … I love you, Michael.“

„And I you. Always.“

 

 

That was the last they spoke for the day. They sat and watched the waves until the sun set. Sometimes over the evening and the night Lucifer would throw him indecipherable glances. More memories perhaps, but if they were, Lucifer chose not to share them. 

That night Michael held Lucifer even closer than before, drank in the presence of his Grace like he would likely never see again. 

The morning came too soon and too rough after a sleepless night. Michael got up before Lucifer, made sure not to look at a body aging rapidly even in his sleep.

He went out to get breakfast, to allow his brother a graceful retreat.

 

 

As expected Lucifer was gone by the time Michael returned. If he chose to wreak havoc on humanity it would be Michael's fault alone. After the last three days he was willing to take that risk. Not least because now he understood that it hadn't been his Father to save him from Hell. It'd been Lucifer. There was no other explanation. This was why his Grace had failed to support his full self. He would have escaped hell without much damage. Unless he went back. Unless he carried extra weight past the demons and the fire. 

Without much paying attention to it he set the breakfast table. His Grace had replenished enough to allow him to go by without eating. Not enough to keep his mind off things. So he had breakfast, ate slowly and tried not to think about how eventually he would have to return to Heaven. He could only imagine the chaos caused by his absence. It was likely Raphael had taken charge but there were many in Heaven who disagreed with him and would not take kindly to him giving the orders. 

One hour more or less wouldn't hurt, however. Michael took the time to return the rental car. Who knew where Lucifer would be by now. He could be anywhere, up to anything. Perhaps he should search for him.

Perhaps he didn't have to. 

 

„Brother.“

„Lucifer.“ Michael said, suddenly breathless. „I thought you'd be long gone by now.“

„I was.“ Lucifer replied smoothly. Once again he inhabited the body of the man Nick, or his restored corpse at any rate. He walked up to Michael with a deliberate spring in his step. He might have fooled anyone. Michael however could tell he was anxious. 

„Then why are you here?“

„I …“ Lucifer hesitated. „I remember everything.“

„I gathered as much.“  
„No. Not just … this. I remember what you said on the beach. Yesterday.“

In some corner of his mind Michael had hoped the memories of the last days would have been erased upon the return of the old.

„Oh.“ he said just. There wasn't really anything else to say. They stood close to each other now, the motel room suddenly smaller.

„I never expected to hear things like that out of your mouth. You practically admitted I was right all along.“

„I didn't -“

„Don't ruin it now, Michael.“

Michael shut his mouth.

„Better.“ Lucifer smiled, a short flash that was gone before he knew it. „I'm not ungrateful for your words. Things can never be as they were, but -“

„Let's try.“ Michael interrupted.

Lucifer blinked.

„What?“

„Let's try. To be brothers again. I still know you and I know you want it, too. You're just too proud to admit it. I'm not so proud. I'll beg if I must. Let's make peace. I love you, nothing has ever changed that. Is that nothing?“

Lucifer's lips pressed on his then, with too much force, too much teeth and rough edges. Michael caught his brother's face in his hands and kissed back, wishing he could be gentler but finding himself unable to. Lucifer burned cold against him, grace like flames licking against him. They kissed like madmen, hands wandering over each other's bodies, pulling, scratching, holding tight. Michael almost fell to his knees when Lucifer let go, legs shaking. 

„Michael.“ he murmured against his ear and the sound of his name spoken like that sent shivers down his spine. „I asked you before my Fall and you turned your back on me. Don't do this to me again. Don't say you love me when …“

„I love you.“ Michael said. „I love you, Lucifer. I don't want to leave your side. Never again.“

„You don't know what you're talking about, brother. What if Father comes back?“

„He never will. You are here and I will stay by your side. If you only let me.“

Michael didn't expect a verbal answer and wasn't disappointed. He got another kiss instead, this one soft and full of gratitude that Lucifer would never be able to voice. It was enough.

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know why but the thought of Lucifer licking Michael's face to wake him up had me giggle for twenty minutes straight. My father used to do that when I was little. And I'm not talking kitten licks here. I'm talking full blown doggy kisses, starting at the chin all the way up to the forehead. It's the most disgusting thing to make a four year old laugh.


End file.
